Holding Out For a Hero
by Lunatastic
Summary: Rose Weasley is keeping a very large secret, one that, if revealed, would rock the foundations of her life forever. But what if it would hurt her even more to hold it in? Rose learns that sometimes she can't wait for someone to swoop in and save her, but that she'll have to save herself. Rated M for later lemons and language. Trigger warnings for people who need them.


**Why hello there! Not much to say for now, except for that I don't own anything except for my OC's and maybe my storyline? Aw, boo, that's no fun.**

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It was the third official day of term. The students of Hogwarts arrived on a Wednesday. _What an odd day to arrive_ _to your school, on a Wednesday. It's smack in the middle of the week._ Rose thought wryly to herself as she lay in her bed, sleepless, for the... something-something night in a row. Once the dreamless draught potions for some stupid and unknown reason didn't work that well on her emotionally clogged brain and still let her have dreams she didn't want to have, Rose had decided that she would illegally brew awakening potions instead.

Because that couldn't cause any trouble at _all_.

Seeing as the sun was beginning to rise and dimple the floor of her Heads' bedroom with light, Rose threw back a vial of the potion and cracked her neck as the effects took place. At least it was a Saturday, so she wouldn't have to put in much of an effort with students besides Malfoy. The past few days, past few _months_, had been the hardest in her life, to say the least. Rose honestly knew that she wouldn't wish them on her worst enemy.

Rose must've laid there for hours, pondering about absolutely nothing, until a harsh knock sounded on her door. "Prefect meeting right after breakfast, Weasley." Well, speak of the devil and he shall appear. "Don't be late." Scorpius hesitated when there wasn't any witty response from Rose. It had been odd; she hadn't so much as insulted anything besides his shoes, which had been a pair he considered to be very nice, by the way, since they had arrived to Hogwarts. He would worry, but, unfortunately for him, that had never and would never be his job. "Weasley?" He called, batting the idea of opening the door back and forth in his mind.

Before either side of that battle could be won, Rose opened the door herself. He swallowed thickly at her fiery, early morning eyes. "No need to babysit me Malfoy. I'm sure you would rather be doing something that could be considered as much more productive." She made to glare at him, but even he could tell it didn't retain its usual spark.

"Everything alright Weasley?"

Rose cocked her head and leaned against the doorway. She would never admit that him asking her a question that wasn't an insulting one sent a small thrill through her. "Well well, Malfoy, what crawled up your arse and gave you a conscience?" She crossed her arms over her chest and Scorpius made an effort not to look down from her face.

He wanted to crack a smile. There was the spitfire he knew and loved. Wait, no, not loved. Just… liked… maybe. "What crawled up _your _arse and made you think I had one? Just checking to see if I would have to run the prefect meeting myself. Not that everyone wouldn't mind having only this to stare at." He gestured appreciatively to himself and cracked a smile.

Rose twisted her mouth into a wry mimic of a grin. "Whatever you need to tell yourself to get through the day, Malfoy. See you after breakfast." Scorpius then found the door shut unceremoniously in his face.

"Morning to you too, Weasley!" He shouted, finding himself wishing that their banter could have gone on longer.

At breakfast-which she had stupidly decided to attend; she could've just had the house elves deliver something-Rose found herself smooshed between her three best friends, Melissa and Zara, with Cassie quietly buried in a book at Zara's side. Albus, Dom, John, and Xavier sat across from them, all stuffing their faces with bacon. Rose now understood why they had all coupled up.

Rose would've never spotted Xavier as being Albus' type, nor Dom as John's, but, in this one case, similarities attracted to each other instead of opposites.

Rose yelped in surprise as a wandering hand came in contact with her thigh. "Oh, sorry Rose. I just can't seem to find my glasses." Melissa continued to grope around the table, magically managing to avoid the food filled plates scattered across it. Rose's heart thudded quickly as adrenaline pumped through her system. She swiped her sweaty palms against the legs of her muggle jeans then fisted her shirt fabric in her hands to calm their shaking.

"I don't know how I was born with such a twit of a younger sister." Zara said as she reached across Rose, grabbed Melissa's glasses from off of her head and shoved them onto her face.

"You're only older by two minutes." Melissa pointed out sardonically as she used her pointer finger to push the horn rimmed glasses farther up the bridge of her nose.

"Just shut up and eat your bacon before one of those louts decides to steal it." Rose snapped and, immediately feeling guilty, shoved the eggs around on her plate with a spoon as a distraction. The six people surrounding her looked and/or glared at her in surprise.

"I think I liked hell-mongerer better Rosie. Had much less sting to it." Albus said, trying to hide the hurt tone in his voice. Rose just made a small noise in return, not in the mood to apologize.

"What's gotten into you lately? You've been like the freaking harbinger of death, what with your bloody attitude." Dominique said, being a little more straightforward with her feelings than Albus. "In fact, you were like this all damn summer. It's usually Hugo's job to be all angsty. I mean, he's in a _punk band_ for Merlin's sake."

"Spill it Rosie. What the hell happened to you?" Xavier laid down his fork, no small feat to accomplish; Rose would have to pat herself on the back for that later.

Rose had been waiting on the edge of her seat for someone to ask her that question for four months. But now that someone finally had, she didn't really know how, didn't really _want_, to respond. She opened her mouth, closed it, opened it, and closed it again. She took a sip of her juice, since her mouth had decided to dry up like the Sahara fucking Desert.

"You look like a dying trout." Dominique commented sarcastically.

"Is it because of um, the… _breakup_?" Melissa whispered as if it was the most forbidden thing in the world. Rose was suddenly enveloped by the insane urge to laugh. If only it had been because of that. But Joshua hadn't mattered to her, she'd been the one to break up with him-_four and a half months ago_, for your information-no matter what sort of things he had told his cronies to spread around school about the whole shitty ordeal. The boy just couldn't take a rejection.

Rose wiped at her streaming eyes and took a few deep breaths to restore her dwindling oxygen supply. She no longer felt humorous. "Can I be allowed to just chalk it up to raging hormones? I am a developing young girl, after all." She knew that talking about anything involving the female body would automatically make the boys exclude themselves from the conversation.

She couldn't have any of them finding out the truth, after all.

"That's a shit excuse and you know it." Dom pointed her egg filled fork at Rose accusingly, flinging bits of it around the table.

"Dom I swear to all things non-holy that I will hex your hands off if you ruin my new scarf." Xavier threatened as he clutched the fluffy piece of fabric to him.

"Babe, remember that talk we had about material objects?" Albus asked, slinging a comforting arm around his shoulder.

"It doesn't apply when the scarf is _Louis Vuitton_, Albus." Rose snuck away, saying goodbye to the friends on her side of the table, while Xavier complained about everyone's lack of fashion knowledge. "Honestly, why do I associate with you people?!" Was the last thing Rose heard before exiting the Great Hall. She would really need to grab some fashion advice from Xavier later.

Rose slogged her way up the staircases to the Heads' dorms. She would need to take another awakening potion before the prefects meeting. She'd have to nick some ingredients for another batch soon too. She could already tell that brewing the potion was going to be more work than it had been at home.

She would also have to start acting more like her old self. The third day into her seventh year and she already had a close call with her friends. Maybe she could nick some ingredients for a mood changing spell too. She pondered all of this and made plans as to how she wouldn't get caught as she fought the drowsiness entering her system.

When she entered the common room through the portrait of the Drunken Ladies she was surprised to find a large table occupying the space that a cozy sitting area usually took up. She was even more surprised to find the majority of the seat already taken up. No chance of sneaking any illegal substances now.

"I thought I reminded you not to be late, Weasley." Scorpius spoke from the chair nearest her, another placed next to him. She swiftly sat in it, examining one of the grandfather clocks hanging about the room. She turned to him with an evil smile. She could tell that he was attempting to act mad, but there was an amused twinkle forming in his eye.

"It is currently 10:55. We agreed yesterday that the meeting would start at precisely 11 o'clock, did we not?" She cocked her head and changed her smile to one of innocence. "Weasley's are never late, everyone else just happens to show up early."

Scorpius examined her smile and found himself wishing that it reached her eyes, but didn't comment on the subject. "Well, Weasley, seeing that you've graced us with your presence, why don't we get started."

The meeting was one of the drollest things Rose had ever experienced. She snuck glances to Scorpius and, judging by his posture and utterly bored expression on his face, he agreed. She didn't know how Headmistress McGonagall had picked them-probably because of their top marks and previous jobs as great prefects, to be honest-but Rose could tell that they wouldn't be enjoying the job. Oops.

It was 7 o' fucking clock when the meeting ended. She never remembered any of the prefect meetings in the history of ever being longer than three hours at most. As Scorpius ushered out the last of the prefects, the ones who had decided that they would start out the year by asking a million complicated questions, he slammed the portrait behind them, causing massive amounts of scandalized and alcohol influenced cursing from the women in the portrait. "Thank Merlin it's over." He said dryly as he walked back over to the table, gathering plans and notes in his arms to take up to his rooms.

"Not enjoying the job already, Malfoy?"

"As if you are, Weasley!" He shouted over his shoulder as he trudged up the stairs. As soon as his door closed behind him, Rose transfigured everything back into the cozy place it was before. She should really have gone up to her room. But the couches looked so _cushy_ and _comfortable_. And the stairs looked so far away. And her body was exhausted, finally breaking down after months of gaining little to no sleep. Before Rose knew it, she had collapsed into the couch and her eyes were drooping to carry her into a deep sleep.

She awoke to the worried shouts of someone shaking her awake and the sound of her own screaming filling her ears.

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**Oops, cliffie. Sorry not sorry. Review question: Should I make Rose and Scorpius hate each other a little more or keep it at a slightly hateful banter? And I'd love it if you guys told me other stuff too. **

**Now, don't be shy, leave a review. It's polite you know.**


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